


Honor Code

by caliecat



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Gen, Partnership, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-31
Updated: 2011-01-31
Packaged: 2017-10-15 06:51:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/158175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caliecat/pseuds/caliecat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the wake of a disaster, Steve struggles to honor Danny's wishes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honor Code

**Author's Note:**

> At the end of 1x15 (Kai e'e), I wondered, _what if?_

**Part I**

Steve thought they still had enough time.

A thunderous roar was his only warning before the wave burst through the tunnel and slammed into them. An instant ahead of the impact he grabbed the bars of the cage to anchor himself. The wall of water hit him like a solid blow but he held fast to prevent the current from sweeping him away. Instinctively, he held his breath and closed his eyes, counting off the seconds as he was submerged.

It felt like it would never end but it was over in less than a minute. He released the bars with trembling hands, wiped his eyes clear and turned to survey their underground chamber.  

About a foot of water covered the concrete floor. A small stream still flowed in from the tunnel. Weak daylight filtered in from somewhere high above the vaulted ceiling. At least the staircase across the room looked undamaged. It would provide a safe exit to the next level.

Danny was on the other side of the cage, inside the evidence locker itself. He sagged against the back wall, breathing heavily. His eyes were glazed and his face ashen under the yellow glow of the emergency lamps. A bright patch of blood stained his hairline.

Steve bit back his panic and scanned the small enclosure. Its low ceiling and three of its walls were solid concrete. The fourth wall was a grid-like cage formed by intersecting metal bars. Thick vertical rods ran from ceiling to floor. He shook them hard, then slid his hands around in search of a weak spot, but they didn't budge. He wasn't surprised; these tunnels were built decades ago to withstand bombing attacks.

The surge had crushed the weaker metal of the locker's doorway, bending and twisting it into an impenetrable knot. He pulled at it, straining until he feared his shoulder would pop, but there was no give. The only gaps left in the wreckage were too small for a man to squeeze through.

Danny was trapped.

He wasn't even supposed to be here. Over Steve's angry protests, Danny had insisted on joining this last-ditch attempt to clear Steve's name. "We're partners", he said, the simple phrase encompassing all of his stubborn loyalty and fierce determination. And it would have worked out, a quick grab-and-go operation, if only the tsunami alert had been accurate.

Steve looked down as he felt a tugging at his legs. The water was now past his knees and threatening to push him off-balance.

He ripped his gun from its holster and tipped the water from the chamber. "Danny! Stay back and cover your head." He waited until Danny complied, then took careful aim at one of the doorway supports. Maybe the thinner metal of the frame would yield to a bullet.  At such close range the risk of a ricochet was high but he was desperate.

Two shots. Nothing, not even a dent. He shifted to his right. Three shots, reposition, then three more. Nothing. He moved again and aimed for the other side. Five more shots wasted. Only two left, maybe he could--

"Stop. Don't empty that clip."

Steve's head jerked up. Danny now stood across from him, clenching the bars of the cage with white-knuckled fingers.

"No, Danny, get back, let me—"

"Give me the gun. I lost mine somewhere...." Danny examined the swirling water, then looked up at the ceiling, less than three feet over his head. "I need yours."

But that didn't make sense. They both knew Steve was the better shot. His gun wasn't made for Danny's grip, it would be—

Then it hit him, the full realization of what Danny intended. "No, no, no—

"Steve." Danny's eyes steeled with resolve. He held out his hand.

Steve felt paralyzed, like everything was happening in slow motion. But there was no time to think. As if in a dream, he watched himself flip the safety on and pass the gun to Danny through the bars.

 _Partners_. He couldn't deny him this.

The water now came to his waist. They had to move. He grasped the vertical bars and stepped onto the horizontal supports, climbing until his feet were above the water.

Danny mirrored his actions, holding the gun clear. For a long moment, he seemed to focus inward, his face a mask of pain, before he set his jaw and fixed Steve with a steady gaze.

"Grace," he whispered, the single word both a question and a command.

"Of course. Whatever she needs, you know that." Steve heard the shake in his own voice. It felt like he was swallowing cut glass. "And I swear to you, she will never forget what kind of man her father was. Never."

Danny nodded. The lines of his face softened with gratitude.

Steve reached over and covered Danny's free hand with his own. It felt surprisingly warm against his chilled skin. "Danny, you were...I...." But the sentiment died on his tongue. He could only stare, wordless, trying to convey the enormity of what he was feeling.

Somehow, Danny understood, as he always did, as he always just _got_ Steve. He offered a gentle smile. "I know," he said, and nothing more was needed.

A faint rumbling sounded from deep within the tunnel. The water rose faster, forcing them to climb again.

They were running out of time.

Danny's raised arm bumped against the ceiling. The water was at his chest. "You have to go." His voice was unwavering. Only the rapid beating of the pulse in his throat betrayed his fear.

Leaving was unthinkable. "No."

"I don't want you here for this." Danny's eyes bore into his, willing him to understand.

Steve had never felt more helpless and scared, but he forced a brave smile, because Danny deserved that, deserved whatever comfort and peace it might bring. One last, quick nod, then he released his hold on the bars and pushed back against the cage with his legs. A few quick strokes brought him to the mouth of the tunnel. The fast current caught him and carried him to the stairwell, toward the light and freedom.

He rose up as though he were flying. The rushing water roared in his ears, drowning out the pounding of his heart, yet not loud enough to hide the crack of a single gunshot.

 

 **Part II**

Three months later, Steve knew that everyone still expected him to go off the rails completely someday.

Kono and Chin shot him quick, furtive glances when an op went down, as though fearing he would crack under the pressure. Most of HPD gave him a wide berth, scurrying away as soon as their business was done. Even the Governor was constantly asking how he was to the point of irritation.

But he surprised them all.

Of course, he still roughed up deserving suspects, but now he read them their Miranda rights before interrogating them. He filed meticulous search warrants, learned the proper channels for working with local agencies and insisted on reviewing evidence as a team, weighing all possibilities and considerations before making a decision.

The truth was, he simply didn't have the same taste for risk anymore.

~~~~~~~

He went surfing once, stealing away to a secluded beach on a quiet morning. But his timing was off. On his second run he wiped out, the churning water tumbling him over and over until spitting him out at the shoreline. He crawled to the edge, gasping and retching, then stayed on his knees and shivered under the hot sun until he felt steady enough to walk to his car.

At the edge of the parking lot, a teenage boy was leaning against a palm tree and watching with a tentative smile. He had red hair and freckles and the look of someone who wants to fit in but doesn't quite know how. "You ate it bad, dude." His eyes flicked to Steve's surfboard. "But that's bitchin."

"You like it?" Steve spiked the board in the sand. "Take it, it's yours." He turned back to his car, waving off the kid's stammering thanks.

He never surfed again.

~~~~~~~

Steve recruited someone new for the team. Mike was a nice enough guy, a smart and tough FBI Special Agent with experience in counterterrorism. They worked well together, settling into a rhythm which if not completely comfortable was at least familiar.

Occasionally, as they drove around Oahu, Mike shared pieces of his life, amusing accounts of his large family back East or long-winded complaints about his latest girlfriend. Steve always nodded politely before cutting him off with a terse reminder about the case or a sharply worded question. Mike finally stopped.

Steve always thought of him as his teammate, never his partner. In another lifetime they might have become friends.

~~~~~~~

Rachel was surprisingly generous about his visits with Grace, perhaps sensing how much they each needed the contact. The first few times were agonizing for both of them. He held her close as she sobbed brokenly against his shoulder, his own tears flowing in silent release. After a while it got easier.

He taught her how to play Navy poker and the names of the stars in the night sky. She introduced him to her stuffed animal friends and hosted pretend tea parties. They went to high school football games where she let Kono and Chin fuss over her while he patiently explained the action on the field.

Mostly, he told her stories, weaving long and intricate tales of his days with Danny, bringing him alive for both of them. Sometimes he made her laugh so hard she got hiccups. Other times they cried a little together, remembering, but that was okay too.

One day, after he made up a silly song about Dolphin Trainer Barbie, she looked at him with dancing eyes, one hand on her jutting hip, the other outstretched, her head tilted just so. "Steeeeve," she mock-scolded, in perfect imitation of her father.

The pain hit him so hard that it took everything he had not to run out of the room.

~~~~~~~

On good nights, Danny appeared in his dreams, vibrant and colorful and in constant motion, his voice rising and falling in tune with his flying hands, ranting about everything from pizza to procedure. He always looked happy.

In the morning, Steve would wake up smiling, suspended in those first drowsy moments of half-consciousness and clinging to the fragments of his dream before they floated away.

Then reality would kick in, the memories flooding back, and he would snap open his eyes to face a new day.

There had never been enough time. 


End file.
